


Été

by basiltonjeans



Series: Window of Opportunity [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drunken Kissing, First Dates, First Love, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Gay Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Mild Smut, POV Simon Snow, Road Trips, Simon Snow Loves Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Summer Love, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24117511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basiltonjeans/pseuds/basiltonjeans
Summary: "Spend the summer with me. Just this one summer. To make up for every year we have missed together. Please."Simon and Baz have been running in circles around each other since they were eight years old. They finally realise their real feelings for each other at the end of year 13, when Baz already has plans to move to Paris and Simon is attending University in the UK.Simon suggests they make the most of their final summer together. The plan seems fool proof, until Simon begins to understand the true depth of his feelings and the real hurt that will come when the summer finally ends.or; Simon and Baz go on dates, go clubbing, go the beach and fall in love the way they never thought they would.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow & Agatha Wellbelove, Penelope Bunce/Micah Cordero, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow & Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Window of Opportunity [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629847
Comments: 22
Kudos: 105





	Été

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies! 
> 
> This took me FOREVER to write. I have been working on this since I finished writing the first part. I'm relatively pleased with the outcome but please be kind! 
> 
> I love this series so far. I really love writing it and I have plans for the next part. I think in total there should be four parts to the series (if all goes to plan). The third part will be significantly smaller than this one though. 
> 
> I have a couple of notes to make: 
> 
> \- most of this will make much more sense if you read the first part of the series :)
> 
> \- it is implied that this is not EVERY moment that Baz and Simon spend together during their summer. They do just spend a lot of time just in each other's company. The parts I wrote are the most significant moments of their summer. 
> 
> \- I wanted to make Mordelia a teenager, which technically doesn't make sense especially since her mother has not been with Baz's dad for that long at all. So for the purpose of this story, she's Baz's sister, not half-sister. 
> 
> \- apologies in advance for how awful Simon is at communicating. I needed this, again, for the purpose of the storyline. 
> 
> \- okay soooooo, some parts of this story get a bit saucy, which is why I've labelled it as 'mature'. I'm not sure if this is the most accurate rating but I've gone with it just to be safe. I've actually never written anything like this before, so I made it mildly saucy. I hope you don't hate it though :) 
> 
> Thank you! I really hope you love this as much as I loved writing it.

**11th July –**

It’s the hottest it’s been all summer and I’m stuck at work wearing my disgusting yellow uniform and serving rude customers. The only thing keeping me going is seeing my friends at the counter grinning at me and sipping their milkshakes. Penny has a chocolate milkshake and Agatha has strawberry; they ask for refills with every passing hour. 

“Do we have any solid plans this summer?” Agatha asks, swirling her paper straw around in the glass and setting her chin on the palm of her hand to rest. She looks more relaxed and radiant than I’ve ever seen her. I haven’t had a chance to tell her, but I have a feeling it’s something to do with the ease of the summer; there is no longer any pressure, any stress, especially for Agatha who’s taking a year out to travel, no matter what results she receives. 

“Not really. There’s a few things I want to do but I thought we’d just go with the flow,” Penny explains. She’s got her hair up in a messy ponytail and a low-cut top on that shows off the expensive necklace Micah bought her. 

“None of us have enough money to go abroad,” I say, unloading the dishwasher as fast as I can. Micah is stuck on the till dealing with customer orders. I can see his brow sweating from where I stand. 

“Such a shame too,” Penny complains, using a menu as a fan for her face. “I really hoped this would be the year I finally get to go to Prague.” 

“I’ve been to Prague,” Agatha says, winking at Penny. Penny shoots her an intense glare.   
  
Micah strides towards the coffee machine, having finished with the queue of customers. I begin crafting milkshakes. He’s huffing and puffing as he makes four coffees. 

He turns to me, “How many weeks until we get to quit this job?” 

I grin, “More than you want me to say.” 

He heaves again, getting out a tray and sliding the coffees onto it. 

“We haven’t got that long until the end of our shifts,” I tell him. 

He furrows his eyebrows, “You mean you haven’t got long.” He’s right. Micah came in two hours after me, so he still has two hours and fifteen minutes until the end of his shift. 

Penny says, “Just think about the lovely dinner I’m going to make you after your shift is over,” and Micah’s face immediately erupts into joy. He bashfully returns to his coffee making. When I look at Penny, she winks. 

“Are there any parties happening this summer?” Agatha begins asking but I’m already wandering around the counter and cleaning dirty tables. It takes me a good ten minutes to feel satisfied with the look of the café. By the time I get back to my friends, Agatha is saying, “Simon won’t want to do that.” 

“Do what?” I ask, now refilling the dishwasher. 

Agatha gives Penny a pointed look before saying, “Penelope was saying we should go clubbing at least a few times.” 

I give Penny a look, tilting my head to the side as if to say ‘really?’ 

She says, “It will be fun! Come on, Simon.” 

“You know I hate it.” 

“I don’t understand why.” 

“It’s so awkward. Every time we go clubbing, it’s awkward. Even when you keep drinking, it still remains weird.” 

“Simon, let’s just go and see what it’s like.” 

“I’ve seen what it’s like. I’ve been.” 

“It might be different.”

“Why would it be?” 

“Because it’s summer!” 

“That doesn’t mean anything.” 

Another, much deeper voice says, “Oh, come on, Snow. What’s it going to take to convince you?” My head snaps up, and there stands the most beautiful boy. He’s all tall, slim figure, stormy eyes and dark hair. I’m so taken back by his beauty that I smack my hand on the counter and immediately wince, holding it to my chest. 

Micah snorts, “Smooth, bro.” 

“Shut up,” I mutter. Baz raises his eyebrows with a small smile.

“He’ll definitely go if you go, Baz,” Agatha says then, smirking in Baz’s direction. He gives her a smug expression, silently agreeing. 

“Is that true?” He asks me pointedly, pursing his lip and putting on a thoughtful expression. He’s glowing. 

He strides over to the counter, taking a seat on one of the stools next to Penny. I realise I still haven’t responded and instead I’m just standing here, my mouth gaping. I must look like a right mess in comparison to Baz, who looks godly in a black t-shirt and a navy pair of shorts. It’s hot outside, so it’s not like I expected him to wear anything else, but I didn’t realise such a simple outfit could ever look so good. 

“I’ll think about it,” I answer. Of course I’ll go if Baz goes. I’ll go anywhere he does this summer. 

These next few weeks are ours. That’s what I told him when he agreed to spend them with me, anyway. 

It must’ve been two weeks since I asked Baz to stick with me for the summer. He was away for most of that in Canada on a family holiday, but we would text for hours. We’ve met up a couple of times since he got back, but mostly it’s just been us going out for lunch. 

I can’t complain. I’d do anything. 

“Are you ready to go, then?” Baz asks me. I check the time and yes, my shift is finally over. 

I send Micah an apologetic look, “You gonna be okay with Sarah?” 

Micah hates Sarah. He stares at me with no emotion in his face whatsoever. I have to stop myself from laughing. 

He sighs, “Yes. Off you go.” 

-

Baz and I walk slowly to my house, switching sides of the road depending on where the most shade is. I’ve already burnt my shoulders slightly from sitting in the garden, and I’m not prepared to do anymore damage to my fragile skin. 

“How was your shift?” He asks. Both his hands are in his pockets. I probably wouldn’t try to hold them even if they weren’t – I wouldn’t know how he’d react. 

“It wasn’t too bad. Got a few rude customers,” I explain, shrugging nonchalantly. 

“Any good stories?” 

“An old lady shouted at me because there wasn’t any coffee cake left. Said she was going to report me to my manager,” I say with a grin. Baz lets out a laugh, which I’m chuffed to hear. I could replay his laugh again and again in my head. 

“Ridiculous,” he says. “Is the coffee cake worth it?” 

“It is pretty good,” I agree. “Maybe I deserved it.” He sends me one of those closed-mouth smiles. 

I don’t know what the line is anymore. Before, we would ignore each other completely, making sure we were never left alone in a room. Then all of a sudden at the end of the year 13 leaver’s party, all boundaries were crossed. I took a leap, asked him to dance and he said yes. And we kissed – for the second time. Where is the line now? What am I allowed to say?

I start telling him about something stupid Micah did today at work. It gives me another feeling to see Baz listening to me, enjoying what I’m saying, and letting out laughs occasionally. I never thought I could have this. All these years, and I have him back. 

We get to my house and begin to walk up the driveway. “I thought we could sit in the garden,” I say, twisting my key into the lock and pushing the door open. 

“Where’s Ebb?” 

“She’s at work today.” 

I lead us through the house and to the back garden, settling on one of the deck chairs, fortunately shaded by an umbrella. 

“I had an idea,” I tell Baz. He folds one leg over the other, looking comfortable in his own deck chair. 

“I thought so,” he says and when I scrunch my nose at him in confusion, he explains, “You had this look on your face.” 

My lips quirk up at the ends. Sometimes it’s easy to pretend that things have always been this way. 

“We should decide what we want to do during this summer. Together, I mean. What we want to achieve, I suppose.” 

“Like a bucket list?” He leans forward, lacing his fingers together. 

I nod, biting the inside of my cheek. “What do you think?” 

He raises his eyebrows, shrugging, “Sounds fun.” 

I let out a content sigh, hopping up. “I’m going to get some pen and paper. Do you want a drink?” 

“Lemonade, please.” 

If we have a bucket list, then there’s an aim for us during the summer. There’s something for us to reach, whilst spending as much time together as possible. It already feels like we’re running out. 

Most of all, if there’s a bucket list, it might distract us from the truth of it – there’s no real future for me and Baz. Come results day, that is the end of the road. 

I need to stop thinking like that. It’s not over yet. 

The hourglass is still going. 

**14th July –**

I’m cycling along the road with the sun on my back, my buttoned-up shirt draped across my shoulders. I’ve barely been cycling for five minutes and I’m already sweating. I push my curls out of my face quickly, turning a corner. 

I’m running late, and the realisation of this makes my legs work harder. There’s no time for running late. 

I turn another corner and begin to slow as I reach the gates to Baz’s house. I hop off my bike and push them open. It takes longer than I care to admit getting myself and my bike through the heavy gates. 

I’m walking with my bike next to me up his long driveway when I see him leant on the wall outside his house. He looks up from his phone; when he notices me, his expression bursts into a grin. He slips his phone into his pocket and reaches for his own bike resting beside him. 

“You’re late,” is the first thing he says, though he still has that blinding smile on his face. 

“I know.” I’m out of breath, and he can definitely tell. “I’m sorry. I was up late last night and I overslept.” 

“Excuses,” he tuts. “Why were you up so late?” 

“Well,” I let out a sigh. “I couldn’t stop messaging this guy until early hours of the morning.” 

He tries to hide his content smile by looking down at his bike handles in the most endearing way possible. His hair is up in a bun today, probably because it’s too hot to have it down. 

I realise with a sudden shock that my shirt is off and still draped over my shoulders. Baz is looking away bashfully, so I lean my bike against my hip and whip the shirt back on, leaving a few buttons undone. 

“Are you ready to go?” I ask him, fiddling with the last few buttons like a child. 

“Yes.” He pats his backpack, beginning to walk alongside me down his long driveway. “Do you go often to the river?” 

I shake my head, “Hardly ever. We went there quite regularly during the summer in year . . . eleven, I think it must’ve been. When there was that huge heatwave.” 

“Oh yeah.” He holds the heavy gate open for me. “I’ve been walking along there a couple of times, but nothing other than that.” 

“Have you been in the water?” 

“No way.” 

I give him a mischievous smirk, jumping onto my bike. 

“What’s that smile for? What are you planning?” He asks, but it’s too late because I’m already cycling along the road, the sun pinching my nose. 

When I glance behind me, Baz is lifting himself onto the bike and chasing after me. 

-

We stop along the river at a quiet spot where the water is high enough to jump in. Our bikes are immediately discarded, and Baz takes off his backpack, getting out a blanket and a book. I look back down at the water and see my own reflection. I’m a mess. 

When I gaze back over to Baz, he’s laying down on his back. I settle myself beside him, the sun beating on my face. 

“It’s ridiculously hot,” I say and Baz hums in agreement. He picks up his book and begins to flick through it. 

I find myself falling asleep with my shirt over my head. When I wake up, Baz is on his stomach, still reading. Feeling a tad too hot and sweaty, I wander over to the water and dip my foot in. It’s nice and cool. 

I yawn, switching and placing my other foot in the water. Unfortunately, I don’t really think about my actions. The now-wet foot, which is holding my body up, slips on the muddy ground and I slide into the water. My face is only under for mere seconds before I’m shooting back up, running a hand down my face. 

I can hear laughter coming from the higher ground and when my head whips over, I find Baz stood hunched over with a hand clasped around his mouth, as if he cannot contain himself. 

“Laugh it up,” I say miserably. I’m splashing my arms and legs around to keep my head above the water. 

“That was the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Baz stands up straight again but holds his stomach, still giggling. 

“I’m sure it was,” I say neutrally, rolling my eyes. “Can you help me?” 

He lets out a final sigh, probably tired from all the laughter. I think it’s sweet how he genuinely believes I’m asking for help. He trudges over, putting his feet where mine were before and reaching towards me. I swim closer. 

As I’m reaching for his hand, realisation dawns upon him and he begins to say, “Wait, no –” But it’s too late. He comes tumbling into the water. 

I wait barely a second after the splash before reaching my hands under the water and pulling him out. He splashes the water at my face and I laugh. His hair has fallen out of the bun and is blacker than I’ve ever seen it. 

“That was uncalled for,” he says, rubbing his eyes. 

“That was justified. Serves you right for laughing so hard,” I offer him a cheeky grin and he shakes his head, pretending to be mad. “Was cute how you fell for it. You didn’t expect me to do that.” 

He rolls his eyes, swimming towards me. I think he’s about to splash more water in my direction, but he stretches his arms out, enveloping them around my neck. I feel his legs wrap around my torso and I reach under the water, holding his thighs, keeping him up. 

“I didn’t expect such a betrayal,” he says quietly. His eyes scan my face. My eyes, my nose, my lips. 

“How can I apologise?” 

He raises his eyebrows slightly, the beginning of a smirk appearing on his face. I lean towards him, feeling his breath against my lips. He strokes my hair back, grasping a fistful of curls. 

The sound of footsteps coming in our direction pulls us apart and we both swim towards the edge of the water, clambering out. A tall lady holding a Labrador on a lead smiles politely at us as we stand there dripping with water. 

“Fancy some food?” Baz asks when she walks on. I nod enthusiastically. 

“Of course.” He begins to dry his hair with a towel, and I miss the flash of a smile across his face. 

-

We cycle to town and get a coffee and sandwiches from a nearby café. We sit on a field surrounded by families having picnics. We talk, and talk, and talk. The sun starts to set so we take a calm walk back, our bikes at our sides. When we arrive back at the gates to Baz’s house, he reaches towards me but stops himself. 

We don’t kiss. We don’t hug. We don’t touch at all. But I see the hint of a smile on Baz’s face, and I know it’s okay. There are many more moments to come this summer. 

**16th July –**

“You really want to do this?” Baz is asking as we wander across the field. He’s dribbling a ball between his feet effortlessly, wearing a pair of football shorts and a jumper. The sight of him does something to me. 

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re not the football star anymore, Baz,” I say pointedly. 

He scoffs, “Doesn’t mean I won’t kick your arse.” 

“We’ll see.” 

He pushes his hair back and kicks the football quickly in my direction, as if he’s testing me. I gain control of it quickly and balance it on one of my feet. I glance over, and Baz is observing me with raised eyebrows, looking almost surprised. 

He turns and walks in the other direction whilst I try to show off how many ‘keepie uppies’ I can do without letting go of the ball. I’m caught off guard when I notice Baz taking off his jumper at a distance from me. He does so slowly, his t-shirt being pulled up with it. His stomach is toned and smooth and –

The football lands on the grass and I groan. Baz is placing his jumper on the ground and his bag across from it, marking out a decent sized goal, when I realise that I’m supposed to be doing the same thing. I take my bag and my jumper from around my waist, putting them in line with Baz’s goal. 

“You ready?” He says once he sees I’ve figured it out. He’s managed to take the ball from where I’d left it on my side of the ‘pitch’. 

I nod, graciously allowing Baz to start with the ball. 

The game starts off steady. I think I catch Baz off guard when he shoots at my goal and I manage to easily intercept it. Then, when I’m dribbling towards his end, I trick him into thinking I’m going one way and then actually go the other. His eyes widen slightly, and he charges in my direction, taking the ball from under my feet. 

There’s an awful lot of running back and forth and an awful lot of foul play. At one point, I’m close to shooting when Baz grabs me by my waist and drags me away from the ball, only to shoot straight towards my goal instead. We’ve been playing for probably forty minutes when Baz gets a goal and evens the score. 

I’m in the centre of the pitch waiting to start up again. Baz wanders over and stands close to me, pushing his hair up. 

“How come you never played in school like this?” Baz asks curiously. His shirt is sticking to him slightly and I know I must look a mess after all of this running around. “You could’ve been on the school team.” 

I shrug, not wanting to explain the real reason and just say, “I couldn’t really be bothered.” 

Baz furrows his eyebrows, looking at me like he can tell I’m not telling the truth. “Snow,” he says softly. 

I sigh, “I guess I just didn’t want to spend much more time around . . . certain people than I already had to.” 

“Certain people, meaning me?” 

Feeling guilty for dragging old problems back up, I say quickly, “Not just you. Most of the football team had it out for me.” 

Baz has a thoughtful expression on his face. “But that was my fault too.” 

“No, it’s – it’s fine.” I realise that I really mean it. “What with all of the Agatha drama, I just always preferred to stay out of the way as much as I could. The boys on the football team wanted you to have Agatha, not me. I know they did. I heard what they would say about me and her.” 

Baz’s lips curl into a slightly fond smile and he says, “Little did they know who I really had my eye on.” 

I feel my cheeks begin to burn slightly. “Well, little did I know my jealousy didn’t come from the way Agatha was looking at you. It was the way you were looking at her.” 

“But, you know now that I wasn’t looking at her in any way.” 

“Yeah,” I nod. “I know that now.” I look down at the football at my feet. I want to ask him how long he fancied me for. I want to know why he never did anything about it. I don’t, though. 

Baz places his fingers softly under my chin and moves my head back up. His fond expression is enough to make me explode. I never thought I would be looked at like this. 

He leans down towards me and captures my lips with his, giving me a soft kiss. Just my lips to his. I can’t help myself from reaching up to his hair and pulling him down more. Then he’s grasping at my sweaty football t-shirt to pull me in closer. I make an appreciative sound against his lips and forget to hide the disappointment on my face when he suddenly pulls away. 

I’m frozen in a moment of pure bliss, so it takes me several long seconds to realise the football has been taken from under my feet and Baz is swiftly making his way up the pitch. I turn quickly, heading directly towards him. Right as he’s about to aim for the goal, I skid across the grass expertly, catching his legs with my own and dragging him to the ground. 

He hits the floor with a thud and immediately tries to scramble back up, laughter escaping his lips. I roll quickly on top of him, holding him with my weight. He shakes his hair out of his face and lets his head drop, staring up at me. The sun is shining on his face, bringing out the hint of light blue in his grey eyes. 

“You’re staring, Snow,” he says, but there’s no malice behind his words. He seems pleased to be saying it. Happy to have me staring. Happy to have me here. 

“Yes, I am,” I answer, completely unafraid. 

He searches my face with a quiet admiration, before leaning up onto his elbows and closer to my face. I’m straddling him slightly, my arms either side of his head. I’m trying not to be too excited about how close I am to him. 

His eyes flicker down to my lips, then back to my own eyes. Then he’s kissing me again, reaching up to pull me down to him. His hands are in my hair, holding my cheeks, running down my back. I’m kissing back with a fierceness that I didn’t know I possessed until Baz kissed me at Trixie’s party about two years ago. When he starts to untuck my t-shirt from my shorts, I’m forced back from him with a sudden realisation. 

I sit back, still on top of him, looking at the beautiful person beneath me. I touch my lips uncertainly. He’s cocking his head to the side, waiting for me to find some words. 

“We’re going to –” I begin, cheeks heating up, “need to stop.” I stand up suddenly, adjusting my shorts in the most natural way possible. Baz is still lying on the ground, a tempting smirk across his face. 

“If that’s what you want,” he says, amusement flashing in his eyes. 

“It’s not what I –” I groan, running a hand down my face and walking away from him, towards the abandoned football. “You’re insufferable,” I shout back to him without turning around. 

In response, he laughs out loud; a real, loud, booming laughter that rings in my head for the rest of the day. 

**19th July –**

Baz is dragging me around a museum. It’s boring and I can’t stay interested for long at all, but Baz has his hand linked with mine, fingers intertwined, his thumb comfortingly rubbing across the back of my hand, so it’s fine. I don’t mind where we are as long as he’s touching me like this. 

He’ll lead us over to different paintings and read what it says about them, and then he’ll say something clever and charismatic. I’ll listen, nodding, staring at him like he’s some sort of God. 

I’m happy to be here, if Baz is happy, but all I really want to do is kiss him. It’s been a whole three days since I last did, when I dropped him at his house after our competitive game of football. We didn’t see each other for a day, then yesterday Penny and Micah were with us so all we could really get away with were a few subtle touches. If Penny saw anything more than that, she was bound to make it awkward for all of us. 

Baz is doing it again. He’s reading out loud the facts about this painting in front of us, and I’m getting lost in his voice. He stops talking and eyes me suspiciously, “Snow . . .” 

“Yes?” 

“What are you doing?” 

I tug his hand, drawing him towards me, “Listening to you.” I gaze up at him (still envious of that slight bit of height he holds over me) and smile innocently. 

“Okay, and what are you doing now?” He narrows his eyes. 

“Trying to get you to kiss me?” I say questionably, smiling in a way that might make him say yes. 

His lips quirk up at the ends, letting me know he’s amused by how I’m acting. His eyes do flicker down to my mouth, but then back up to my eyes as if nothing ever happened. He says, “Snow, we’ve got so much more to see.” 

I release a groan as he begins to drag us towards a different painting, acting as if there is no tension between us that needs to be well and truly dealt with. 

“This one’s good, don’t you think?” He says, squeezing my hand to gain my full attention. 

I barely glance at it before I’m looking straight back at his face, “Yeah, it’s good.” 

He chuckles. It’s quiet and slips out before he can prevent it. He’s tugging me along again, wandering aimlessly around the museum and occasionally stopping to read what it says about the art. I’m frowning and staring at the ground like a child. 

“Okay,” Baz says suddenly, causing my head to snap towards him. I worry for a second that I’ve angered him, but allow a sigh of relief when I notice the fondness still present on his face. “One kiss, then you need to pretend you’re enjoying being here with me.” 

“I’m enjoying being with you,” I argue, trying to prove my point by laying a hand across his chest. 

“Do you want me to kiss you or not?” Baz teases. I pretend to zip up my lips and he smirks, leaning down and pressing his lips against mine. It’s short and quick and over before I know it. He’s leaning back and taking a glance around the room to see if we’ve caught anyone’s attention. I find myself looking too. 

I can’t help it. I’m not afraid to be seen being romantic with Baz. If anything, I want everyone to know. I just can’t help noticing that since showing our affections publicly, people do stare. It’s strange because I’m not used to it; with Agatha, we would hold hands and be completely invisible to any prying eyes. Now, I’ll catch people ogling occasionally, and then they’ll look away as if it never happened. 

As I gaze around the museum, I only notice one couple sat on a bench in the corner leering at us. I furrow my eyebrows at them and they snap out of their daze, realise they’re coming across as rude, and go back to talking. 

Baz is already looking at me when I turn back to him. His stare is different to theirs (or different to anything I’ve ever experienced). It’s more personal, more intimate (or, dare I say it – more loving). 

“Happy now?” He says expectantly. 

“I mean, I could be happier . . .” 

Baz snorts, “Come on. Let’s go.” 

-

We arrive at an old vintage bookstore having walked there hand in hand. The walk was spent exchanging amusing conversation and stepping out of people’s way along the bustling city street. It became a game to begin pointing out funny shop names. It’s funny to think about the things you fail to notice when you forget to really look. Was there always a shop down this road called Fuzzy Duck? 

We would have to step onto the road occasionally to avoid crashing into busy people, using our intertwined hands like a lifeline. To get around lampposts, I would pull Baz towards me and laugh when he trips on the curb and topples in my direction. 

The bookstore is a lot quieter than the city street. The man at the till is immersed in a book of his own, but he looks up and smiles as we enter. Baz knows the bookstore, and I let him drag me towards the back.

“Here,” Baz says softly, not wanting to interrupt anyone who may be reading peacefully. “This is my favourite section.” 

My eyes widen at the long wooden bookshelves. “I’m not really much of a reader,” I admit, though seeing Baz’s joyous expression makes me wish I’d read every book in any language just to be prepared for this moment. 

“That’s okay,” Baz says. With his free hand, he takes a book from the shelf. 

“Maybe you could suggest one for me to read.” 

Baz’s face erupts into happiness and my heart beats out of my chest. 

“Okay,” he says calmly. He puts the book back that he’s holding. “This is a lot of pressure. I’m not sure what to suggest.” 

I smile, watching as his stormy eyes drift across the shelves. 

“What kind of movies are your favourite?” Baz asks me then, eyes not leaving the books. 

He starts touching the spine of one of them as I explain, “I’d have to say those creepy kind of movies where you’re not sure what’s going on. ‘Get Out’ has always been one of my favourites. And what’s that other one where the guy doesn’t know his whole life is part of a show? That’s one of Ebb’s favourites.” 

Baz smirks as if he’s figured it out. He moves to the bookshelf in front of me and I step out of his way. He takes out a book, scans the cover, and then hands it to me. It’s not too thick, and the front looks interesting. 

“1984,” I say out loud. 

“I’ll buy it for you.”

“Really? I can buy it –”

“I want to,” Baz concludes, so I nod and stand beside him as he buys the book and exchanges polite conversation with the man at the till. 

**23rd July –**

It takes a lot of convincing to get me to go clubbing. Penny rings me every day leading up to Friday to give me a list of reasons why it’s a good idea. She has them written down and everything. Micah posts on his snapchat story photos of him and Penny frowning with captions like ‘just wish our best friend would hang out with us’ or ‘just want to go clubbing with Simon’. Even Agatha was pressured into texting me; she sent several ‘come on, it’ll be fun’ texts before she got bored and gave up. 

Then, on the Thursday night, Baz Pitch turns up at my door with a cupcake in his hand and the prettiest smile on his lips. “My sister baked them,” he explained, “so feel free to not eat it.” 

“What are you doing here?” I asked with a small smile, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed. 

“I’m here to let you know I’ve agreed to go out with your friends tomorrow. And I would love for you to be there too.” 

It wasn’t until he pulled me towards him by my belt loops that I finally gave in. 

I mean, can you honestly blame me? 

We plan to meet at a bar in town for pre-drinks. Baz turns up uncharacteristically late to my house wearing a tight pair of jeans and an expensive looking shirt tucked in only at the front. It takes me several long seconds when I open the door to find any words in the English language besides ‘fuck’. 

“Close your mouth, Snow,” he says with a cheeky (and pleased) expression across his face. 

“I –” He walks past me and into the house, not waiting for an invitation. 

“Are you ready?” 

I catch a glimpse at myself in the mirror behind him. I’m wearing jeans too, though they’re not nearly as fitting. I went with a pretty ordinary black t-shirt and jacket. Nothing special. 

“Why are you so late?” 

He furrows his eyebrows and doesn’t answer. I suppose I shouldn’t expect him to, since I didn’t answer his question either. 

We leave and begin the fifteen minute walk into town. There’s a tension between us that I don’t like, so I innocently brush my hand against his about five times before he chuckles and laces his fingers with mine. 

-

It must be about three hours later when we’re sat in a club, the five of us all seated around a booth. It must be three hours. Or maybe it’s five. 

The club is vibrant, coloured lights flashing and making my head spin. The dancefloor itself has different yellow and blue and red squares changing colours to the beat of the music. Baz is leaning back in his seat, his arm draped behind me. Agatha is sat on my other side, practically dancing in her seat; she’s wearing a pretty blue dress and every time she stands up to go to the bar, ambitious men seem to gravitate towards her. Penny and Micah are on her other side, whispering in each other’s ears and giggling. 

“Drinking game?” Micah says all of a sudden. Agatha is in the middle of a drunken ramble to me and Baz, but the words die in her throat as soon as Micah suggests the idea. 

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“What game?” I ask. 

“I’ve got one,” Penny says, leaning across the table. “I played it at after-prom with Trixie and her friends. They called it ‘say it or shot it’ and it’s what it says on the tin.” 

Everyone happily agrees in drunken murmurs. Micah hops up to buy a tray of about twenty shots, saying, “It’s on me!” as if our pay at the Milkshake Shack means he can afford it. 

The game starts off pretty tame. Baz answers questions about his mysterious family with a carelessness, Agatha admits to a devious night with one of Baz’s old school friends and Micah tells us about an unforgettable night out he had a few months back. 

“Simon,” Micah says suddenly, pointing at me with both his index fingers. “What is your biggest regret?” 

There’s a series of reactions to this question from around the table. I know the answer immediately. It’s always there, in the back of my mind, taunting me. 

And as a terrible reminder of my regret, I feel Baz’s arm move from over the top of my seat. His hand slides up my thigh and I relax slightly. I can’t look at him. He’ll be able to read it all over my face. 

_You are a reminder of my biggest regret. You are what I can’t have. I will always regret missing my chance to be with you. It was right there all along. And now, you’re going to France and I’m staying in the UK._

I reach across the table, grab a shot-glass and tip my head up. The alcohol burns the back of my throat and I feel it all the way down to my stomach. Penny is laughing at the look of disgust on my face. Baz squeezes my knee but I can’t look at him yet. 

“Penny,” I say suddenly, taking the attention off of me. “Rank me, Micah and Agatha from who you like most to who you like the least.” 

“What – that’s so unfair!” 

“That’s a good one, Simon,” Micah grins, turning towards Penny expectantly. “Go on, Pen.” 

It takes several minutes, or maybe more, of Penny complaining about how she couldn’t possibly answer such a question. Eventually, she takes the shot with a huff and well-disguised disgust at the taste. 

Micah tells us what Penny does that annoys him the most, and he barely gets through his explanation without a punch in the face. 

Micah turns to Agatha and asks her, “What is your real opinion on these two?” He points between Baz and I with his forefinger. “Since he’s your ex and whatever.” 

Micah is an asshole. 

Agatha lets out a light-hearted laugh, “I don’t have a ‘real opinion’. I’m being real.” 

Micah says, “So it doesn’t weird you out?” 

“Not at all. I just can’t believe I missed it all those years.” She grins at me.

I risk a glance at Baz and he’s smiling too. It’s a quiet, private smile. His eyes are slightly glossy due to the alcohol consumption. 

“Baz . . .” Agatha has a cheeky glint in her eye, like she’s up to something she shouldn’t be. “What is your biggest turn-on?” 

Baz, with his drink raised to his lips, chokes on his drink and places the glass back onto the table. “Excuse me?” 

“That’s my question,” she says, concealing her smirk behind her own drink. When I look at her, she winks and I flush a shade of red.

Baz spends several long seconds trying to remember how to speak English. He looks at me helplessly and I turn towards him, placing my hand on his own hand, which is still resting over my thigh. 

He doesn’t need to answer, although I’d love to hear what he has to say. 

I lean across with my other hand and run a hand through the back of his hair comfortingly. My three awful friends are all cackling in the distant background. I take my hand off of his and reach across the table to grab hold of two shot glasses. He accepts one when I pass it his way. 

“Cheers,” I say, clinking our shot glasses together. We tip our heads back simultaneously. His expression of pain is replicated on my own face. When he recovers, making a noise that sounds somewhat like ‘gerrr’, I lean across and kiss his cheek, affectionately running my fingers through the back of his hair. 

“I’ll get the next round of drinks,” Baz announces in a slightly slurred voice. He takes our orders, mimicking a waiter and then wandering off in the direction of the bar. 

I watch his back as he walks away, gazing after him like some lovesick idiot. 

“You’re a goner.” 

I snap my head over to Penny, who’s smiling sheepishly. 

“It’s the truth,” she says. “You’re so in love.” 

“I’m not – I – ”

“It’s very sweet actually,” Agatha says coolly, leaning back against the back of the booth. 

I glance back towards Baz and he’s facing the other way, leaning his elbows on the bar and talking to the bartender. The bartender walks away to start making the drinks and Baz looks back over his shoulder towards me. He smirks when he sees me staring. 

“Are you going to tell him you love him?” I hear Penny say and the question shocks me so suddenly that I break eye contact with Baz. 

“You know the answer to that,” I say glumly. She frowns and Agatha sags even lower in her seat. 

“I wish you would.” 

“I can’t, Penny. He’s going to Paris.” Saying it causes an anxious pain in my chest. 

Nobody argues with me so I direct my attention back to the bar, where I’m surprised to see Baz chatting with two women. They look close to our age and both attractive – one has blonde hair with specs of pink in it and the other brunette. 

I know Baz is gay. I know Baz is seeing me (although, are we exclusive?). And yet, a pang of jealousy pools in my stomach and before I can stop myself, I’m standing and floating over towards the bar. I feel as though I’m not in control of my own body. 

By the time I reach him, the brunette has her hand on Baz’s chest. Her fingernails are long and painted black. 

“Hey, what’s taking you so long?” I say from behind Baz’s back. He twists around and the girl’s hand drops. The drinks are all ready in front of him. I reach for my vodka and coke and take a few sips as he speaks. 

“These ladies said they recognised me from somewhere,” Baz explains. 

“You went to Watford, right?” The brunette says and when Baz nods, she flirtatiously claims, “I’d recognise that face anywhere. Our school used to play football against yours. I was at most games.” 

“You were, like, the best on your team,” the other girl adds. 

“Well, thank you,” Baz says simply. 

“Baz, shouldn’t we be getting back?” I say but this time he doesn’t turn around. The girls have started asking him about where he learnt to play football and he’s immediately immersed in conversation. In his drunken state, I suppose I can forgive him. 

With a glance back to our booth, I see our friends waiting on their drinks. 

I take a step closer to Baz, my front now pressed against his back. I can smell his soap and a whiff of alcohol. I’m at the perfect height to rest my head on his shoulder (if I go slightly onto my tiptoes), so I do so. Off somewhere, I hear one of the girls start to slow her speech in confusion. 

I press the palm of my hand against Baz’s lower back, and then slide it around his hip, where I squeeze hard. He jumps slightly and turns his head to the side. He’s grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

I lean in and press my lips to his jaw carefully. I feel him shudder against me, his breath loud in my ear. His attention is all on me; the girls are forgotten. 

“Shall we go back to our table, Basilton?” 

Baz gulps loudly, remembering the circumstances and turning to the women next to him. I keep my head tucked into the crook of his neck. 

“Sorry, I’ve got to go back to my table. Have a good rest of your night,” he says politely, before pushing off the bar and wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we walk back. “Were you jealous, Snow?” He asks in an amused tone. 

“No reason to be,” I say casually. 

“You were marking your territory, weren’t you?” 

“I wouldn’t objectify you like that.” 

He kisses a mole on my cheek, lingering there for a second too long. When he pulls away, he tells me, “I don’t mind if you were jealous.”

We’re back at our table and our friends are all staring at us expectantly. Penny is sending me a look that says ‘well?’. 

“What?” I say at the same time that Baz asks what’s going on. 

“Our drinks, you moron!” Penny almost shouts. Baz and I simultaneously jump up and race back towards the bar. 

-

Baz and I come bustling into my house sometime between 3:00 and 4:00 in the morning. Having walked Agatha to her house and then trudging all the way back to mine, it’s safe to say we are knackered. We kick off our shoes and Baz leads the way into my living room, collapsing onto my sofa dramatically. 

He curls up over one of the cushions like a cat. 

“I’m tired,” he starts to complain but I immediately hush his loud voice. I point to the ceiling, indicating that my mum is in fact home and told me that she will in fact kill me if she gets woken up. “Sorry,” he whispers, really enunciating the word with his mouth. 

I slip into the kitchen to pour us both a glass of water. I catch a glimpse of myself on the reflection of a spoon and realise I look a right mess. I attempt to push my hair back and make myself more presentable. 

It doesn’t seem to matter how good I look when I wander back into the living room and find Baz sat up watching me walk towards him. He looks at me like I’m some sort of hidden jewel he’s discovered. That’s a look I could never get used to. But now I’ve seen it – it’s a look I’m never going to be able to forget. 

I place the waters on the coffee table and as I’m straightening back up, I feel Baz’s foot touch mine. I glimpse down to watch as he runs his foot up my leg. He stops and drops his foot, instead hooking it around my leg to pull me forward. I’m caught off guard, and I stumble towards him. 

To avoid an ungraceful pummel on top of him, I instead hit the part of the sofa beside him. I’m sat up, facing him with my legs sprawled out. He bites his lip, his eyes glazed over and waits for me to speak. 

I gulp and say, “Come here,” and he does. He elegantly leans across to me, placing his legs on either side of mine, straddling me. He’s sat in my lap and I’m gazing up at him, wondering how anyone could look so beautiful. He’s meeting my stare under his dark eyelashes, and then snaking his arms around my neck. 

I kiss him first. It’s soft and gentle and affectionate. It’s just my lips against his lips in my quiet and desolate living room. I pull away and press my forehead to his, pushing his hair back and out of his face. 

Then he kisses me. This time, it’s passionate and fiery and exciting. I place my hands against his hips and he opens his mouth around mine. He pushes against me until I fall back against the sofa and his back is arching to reach down to me. My hands find their way under his shirt and I feel the soft skin of his back. All I can imagine is taking it off. 

He makes a groaning sound and although it excites me, I find myself shushing him. He giggles against my mouth and then I’m giggling too and he’s standing up and taking my hand and leading me upstairs to my own bedroom. 

“I liked seeing you all riled up and jealous,” he mumbles against my lips when the door is closed and I’m pushed up against it. I hum, doing something with my chin to kiss him even harder. He seems to like it, as his lips start to move against mine more frantically. 

I can’t believe I’ve been starved of kissing Baz Pitch for my whole life. Why weren’t we doing this the whole time? 

My hold around his waist gives me the strength to push him towards my bed. The back of his legs hit the foot of the bed and he falls on his back. I let out a loud snort of laughter and immediately cover it with my mouth. 

Baz uses his newly found expert-foot-navigation to pull me onto the bed next to him. He folds his legs up, places a hand behind my neck and starts to lean back towards my mouth.

“Wait,” I say quickly in a sudden whisper. He sits back, letting his hand drop, but I catch it. “I want to kiss you. A lot. But I don’t want this to go too far in the states we’re in . . . and with my mum on the other side of this wall.” 

Baz grimaces, “You’ve made a good argument there.” He goes to press a quick kiss to my lips which ends up turning into teeth and tongue and a full-blown minute of passion. “Okay, okay!” Baz lurches away from me, “You’re going to have to not look at me until I sleep then.” 

“Oh, because I’m so irresistible?” I whisper with a smug look. 

He’s got his head turned towards the door when he responds, “And you can’t speak. You’re an idiot but I am seriously attracted to your stupidity.” 

I let out a delighted laugh and throw some pyjamas in his direction.

I fall asleep with my head buried in the crook of his neck, my body spooning his. At around ten o’clock the following morning, my eyes start to adjust to the sunlight blazing through the window and his stormy grey eyes are the first thing I see. 

**25th July –**

I’m lying on my bed reading the book Baz bought me when I get a call. 

My phone vibrates against my bedside table and I’m so shocked to be getting a call at midnight that I practically jump. I answer and lift it to my ear.   
  
“You must be missing me,” I say with a small grin, secretly chuffed to be hearing from him. “Aren’t I seeing you tomorrow?”

“Simon,” is all he says. His voice is low and quiet and devoid of emotion. I sit up on my bed immediately. 

“What’s happened?” 

He lets out a deep breath and I can almost imagine he’s right beside me. “I just – don’t feel okay.” 

“Are you at home?” I ask, already standing up and leaning across my desk to write a note for mum, telling her where I’m going. 

“Yeah,” he says. I slip my jacket on over my t-shirt and sweatpants. The post-it note for Ebb sticks to her bedroom door. My shoes are on, and I’m out of the door.

I stay on the phone to him for the whole walk, but he doesn’t talk much. He just occasionally gives my questions simple, one-word answers. 

“I’m outside your house,” I tell him, pushing the long gates open and rushing up the even longer driveway. I can hear him moving on the other end of the phone. 

His front door opens at the exact moment I reach it. Baz, with his phone still held to his ear, looks dishevelled and tired and broken. His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his eyes look desperately glum. He puts his phone into his pocket and exhales. 

I tread across the two steps leading up to his front door and offer him my hand. His cold fingers curl around mine and he pulls me into his huge house. The inside is dark and deserted apart from the room at the bottom of the stairs, where a light is spilling through the crack in the door.  
  
Baz stops suddenly outside his bedroom and I’m so caught up in staring at the house that I smack into his back. He tugs us both inside and closes the door behind him. 

It’s been too long since I’ve seen the inside of Baz’s room, and everything is different. The colour – which used to be a orangey-red sort of thing – is now a light grey. His queen-sized bed situated in the centre of the room instead of by the window. His toys replaced with a piano. His posters of superheroes and cars replaced with posters of a band I know he likes, framed book quotes and a painting of a woman bashfully facing away from the painter. 

I hadn’t really imagined what Baz’s room might look like now, but now I’ve seen it, I can’t imagine anything else. 

Baz is sat on his bed with his legs crossed, playing with a ring around his finger. “I’m sorry for making you come here,” he says in a quiet voice. 

“You didn’t make me do anything,” I say, gravitating towards him. “I needed to make sure you were okay.” 

He gives a slight nod, just to indicate he heard me. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No, I just –” He inhales quickly. “I sometimes get these sort of panic attacks. I get in my head about things and I can’t seem to stop myself.” He glances up at me, sees I’m watching him intently and explains, “I’ve never had anybody to call when it happens. Well, I’ve never wanted to. I wanted to talk to you though.”  
  
I’m back to year 10 all of a sudden, back to my house and facing another vulnerable and crushed Baz Pitch. I’m back in my bed and the lights are off and this Baz, who hasn’t spoken to me in years and who I was sure had forgotten me, is holding my hand like it’s his lifeline. He’s lost his mother and he’s scared he’s broken, and I don’t know how to tell him he’s not. I’m young and stupid and in love (but I don’t know that yet). He’s reaching across the space between us and kissing me and unwinding a whole new knot of problems (but I don’t care yet). 

“Talk to me,” I say to this Baz Pitch, reaching across the space that exists between us now and lacing my fingers with his. 

He tells me the troubles he has being in a house where his mother’s death has been forgotten. He tells me he thinks about her every day. He tells me he can hardly stand being around his dad. 

When his words have all ran out, we clamber tiredly into his queen-sized bed and lie side by side, fingers still laced together. My thumb runs along his. Just as I’m about to fall into a deep sleep, I see Baz begin to sit up on his elbow. He gazes down at me through his dark, beautiful eyelashes. 

“Remember this, Snow?” He asks in his soft tone. He leans his head down and presses his lips against mine. It’s sweet and innocent and just like the first time. I’m caressing his jaw when he pulls away from me and beams. 

“How could I forget?” I whisper back in the darkness, where nobody will ever know except for us.   


  
**29th July –**

I decide to surprise Baz a couple of days later. I haven’t seen him for a few too many days because he’s had family stuff and I’ve had Penny and Agatha stuff. I take a pleasant walk out in the sun to the supermarket and buy some bits of picnic food. I’ve got Penny on the phone to me, shouting through my headphones. 

“No, Simon, don’t buy scotch eggs,” Penny is saying, tutting into the mic on her end. 

“Why not? They’re a perfectly acceptable picnic food.” 

“No, Si. You gotta be more romantic about it. Buy strawberries and chocolate and feed them to each other.” 

I pull a face although I know she can’t hear me, “The chocolate will melt.” 

“That’s the point!” 

I sigh and throw the scotch eggs into my basket anyway. 

“That better not have been the scotch eggs I just heard,” Penny warns. 

“Nah, it’s strawberries,” I say, choosing a nice vegetable quiche over a cheese and onion one because of the whole onion breath predicament (see, Penny should be proud). 

I also do decide to take Penny’s advice with the fruit. I’ve seen how Baz reacts to strawberry milkshakes, so they have to be something he enjoys. 

Penny stays on the phone during the walk to Baz’s house. She’s apparently painting her own nails and needs somebody to talk to. 

“What’s going on with Micah today then?” I ask. 

“Oh, um – he’s helping his dad out with something.”

I shrug, thinking nothing more of it. Baz’s mansion starts to come into sight, but the iron gates are restricting most of it. 

“Gotta go, Pen,” I tell her. 

“Good luck with the picnic!” She waits for me to hang up, too afraid to smudge her new nails. 

I push the heavy gates forward and struggle to get myself and my shopping bag around it. I pray that no member of the Grimm-Pitch family is watching me from the windows. 

After the trek up the dreaded driveway, I knock twice on the door. I can hear the sound vibrate around the house. I wait so long for an answer that I start to wonder if anyone is home. As I’m about to try again, the door peeks open and Baz’s younger sister stands watching me, completely unimpressed. 

“Hey, Mordelia,” I say with a slight wave. She furrows her eyebrows at me. She’s a lot older than she was last time I saw her; now, she’s a teenager – ballsy and unafraid and so much more like Baz Pitch.

“I don’t know you,” she says frankly. 

“Oh, sorry, you were really young last time I saw you. I’m Simon Snow,” I say in a rush, pink coating my cheeks. Awkwardly, I add, “Baz’s friend?” 

“Oh, Snow,” she says, nodding but still seeming bored out of her mind by this conversation. I’m not sure if she’s remembered me from when we were both much younger, or if she’s just heard of me from Baz recently. 

“Is he here? Baz, I mean.” 

She briefly glances over her shoulder towards the hallway, and then her dark eyeshadowed eyes flicker back to me, “He is, but he has a boy over. Do you want me to tell him you’re here?” 

“Oh,” I frown, switching my weight to the other foot and scratching my head uneasily. “No, that’s okay.” He’s probably just with Dev or Niall. He was telling me over text that he hasn’t seen them in a while although they’ve been trying to meet up with him. He must’ve finally given in and Mordelia must just not know either of their names. She does seem bad with names. 

“Shall I tell him you came over?” 

“No, thank you, I’ll tell him,” I say with a painted smile. She says goodbye to me and closes the door with a heavy push. 

I walk the long way home, swinging the shopping bag up into the air and then back down. 

**[From: Penny]**  
_**Going well??????** _

I respond: _**It’s not going anywhere.**_  
  
She calls me and I pick up on the last ring. 

“What happened?” 

“He’s got some boy over.” 

“Who?” Penny says, then adds, “One of his school friends?” 

“I don’t know,” I sigh. “Don’t you think his younger sister would know their names?” 

Penny hums, “Maybe she’s bad with names. What are you going to do?” 

“I’m glad you asked,” I say, coughing as if I’m about to make a dramatic speech. “I have made the sensible decision to create a box in my mind, right? And the box is ‘things I don’t want to think about’. And the box is closed.” 

Penny huffs, “Simon . . .” She asks, “What’s in the box?” 

“It’s closed, Pen.”

“So basically your whole being-in-love-with-Baz situation and this new mystery boy.” 

I reach my house and wander up my driveway (which is a lot shorter and more sensibly sized than Baz’s). “I don’t think you’re understanding the purpose of this box,” I mutter as I fish around for my keys. 

“I think your box idea is really unhealthy,” she declares. “And you’re going to explode if you put everything in it.” 

“That’s also going in the box,” I say. 

“What is?” 

“The issue with the box is going in the box. So I don’t need to think about it.” 

Penny exasperatedly laughs, “Do you want me to come over?” 

“It’s okay,” I tell her kindly. “I’m going to renovate the shed in the back garden. I’ve got all day.”

So that’s what I do.

When my mum gets home at 5:00, I’ve cleared out the shed, painted the inside, put up shelves and added a few beanbags and chairs. She ruffles my hair and tells me she’ll order a sofa to get put in. I’m pretty proud of it, but I’m still thinking about Baz (and what he’s doing right now). 

**30th July –**

The next day, I still haven’t spoken to Baz. It might be the longest we’ve been out of contact with each other since the summer began. We text every day, even just to send funny memes or selfies (I particularly enjoy when Baz sends selfies of him pulling funny faces; I’m the only one who gets to see those). 

I stay in bed until about midday. Penny was on facetime to me for most of the morning trying to distract me from what might have happened yesterday. Well, trying to distract me whist also continuing to bring it up. She sends a photo to our group chat (with Agatha, Micah and Baz) just to see if he’s online, which we find out he isn’t. 

When I finally drag myself out of bed, I put on some joggers and decide to go for a run. I’m running around the streets near my house, crossing roads and stepping in time to the music in my ears. I check the time and see I’ve been running for about an hour, so I start to head back towards the direction of my house. 

My legs are really starting to ache, unused to being pushed so hard. I exhaust them on a final sprint down my road and then turn towards my driveway. I’m shocked to find Baz leaning his back against my garage door. I slow myself, pacing towards him. Sweat is dripping off my forehead and I wipe it away with the back of my hand. My body feels on fire. 

I reach behind the flowerpot outside my door and retrieve the water bottle I left there. I take a few long guzzles and Baz waits, saying nothing. 

I let out of heavy breath and spray some of the water over my face. Baz raises an eyebrow and finally says, “Mordelia told me you came over. Sorry. I wish she’d called me downstairs.” 

“’S alright,” I say, still catching my breath. “Who’d you have over?” 

“Oh, nobody,” he says quickly. Then, “What are you doing now?”

“I’m going to have a shower. Nothing for the rest of the day.” 

“We can hang out then?” 

I nod, drinking water to avoid a response. There’s a tension between us that I don’t like. He’s hiding something. He thinks I don’t know him like I used to, but I know when he’s got something to hide. 

My eyes shift over to him. He’s gazing at me from water bottle in my mouth and down to my feet. Maybe I don’t know him like I think I do. All these years, I believed this feeling between us was nothing more than a hatred and a rivalry. This way he looks at me – how could I miss that? 

I remember how I’d kissed him on my sofa just mere days ago. He had sat on my lap and leant down to my mouth and giggled and groaned and – 

And then a couple of days later, I’d held his hand and waited for him to fall asleep beside me. I’d do it every night if I had to, if it meant he would sleep soundly. 

Now, on my driveway, the sun in my eyes, my t-shirt sticking to my back, Baz presses his lips to mine. Everything else is forgotten. He kisses me and kisses me and kisses me and – 

His hands are at the hem of my t-shirt. I’m jumping away from him with a willpower that I did not know I possessed. 

“Shower time,” I say, opening my front door. “You can wait in the living room.” 

Baz smirks and nods, following me into the house. 

**1st August –**

Ebb’s hosting a family BBQ, which means her brother and his family are coming over, which is terrible news. The good news is that she said I can bring my friends over too. 

Baz arrives a couple of hours early. I answer the door with a goofy grin, which he kisses off my face. I’m messing up his hair with my hands when I hear a cough from behind me. Ebb stands there with an unimpressed expression on her face and crossed arms. This might be the worst moment of my life. 

“Hey, Mum,” I say awkwardly, my hands flying off Baz.

“Hey, Miss Petty,” Baz says politely. I take a glance at him and he’s got this very attractive and crafty smile across his lips; I bet that gets him out of a lot of shit. 

“Hello, both of you.”

I told Ebb about me and Baz a couple of days after the end of sixth form, when Baz was in Canada and I wouldn’t put down my phone for a second, too afraid to miss a text. I suppose I wasn’t just telling her I liked _somebody_ , I was telling her I liked a _boy_ , having never expressed interest in boys before. 

I think if I was telling anybody apart from my mum, they may have separated these two facts. It might be fine that I liked somebody but overwhelming that I liked another guy. Ebb, however, gave me a hug, told me she never expected it, but she was very happy for me. 

Regardless of her acceptance, she has never seen anything like this. When I was dating Agatha, we mostly hung out at her house (if we did hang out). Baz, stood on my doorstep, kissing me, must be a very different parental experience for her. 

“We’re just going to head upstairs,” I say slowly, reaching my hand out blindly behind me. I feel Baz’s cold hand slide into mine. 

When we reach the top of the stairs, Ebb calls out, “Leave the door open!” but I can hear the jokey tone of her voice, so I assume she’s kidding. 

-

A few hours later, I’m showing my friends my new renovated shed. 

They wait patiently outside whilst I stand in front of them, my back to the shed door. “This took me a while so, please be kind. My decorating skills aren’t amazing.” 

Behind my four friends, Ebb and her brother are stood by the BBQ. Nicodemus’ children are running around the garden, rolling on the grass. The smell of the food flies around us. 

“Simon, we want to see,” Penny says, ushering me inside. 

I nod, opening the door and letting everyone in before me. By the time I come in, right behind Baz, Penny and Micah are already sat comfortably on the sofa. Agatha heads straight towards the beanbag. 

“This is awesome, Si!” Micah is saying. Baz starts to look at the posters and various things stuck to the walls. 

“Yeah, this is actually so cool,” Agatha agrees. “We have to hang out here more often.” 

Baz picks up the copy of 1984 he bought me, which I left on a shelf. I was reading it before he got here this morning. He has a small smile on his face as he checks what page I have reached. 

I head back inside to grab drinks for everyone. When I get back into the shed, Baz has finally sat himself on a beanbag. He looks uncomfortable what with his long legs sprawled out in front of him and his posture being so slouched. I grab a chair and pull it up beside him. 

“What are we talking about?” I ask. 

“This guy who keeps messaging Agatha,” Penny exclaims. 

I furrow my eyebrows and open my can of beer, “Do we know him?”

“That guy who asked for my number when we were clubbing,” Agatha says. 

Baz is sipping at his Pimm’s through a straw, which is quite distracting. He says, “I still don’t know why you didn’t just give him a fake number.” 

“Or pretend you were dating one of the boys,” Penny says, gesturing to me and Baz. Baz looks perplexed, as if even pretending to date a girl is confusing to him. I run my hand down his back and he relaxes under my touch. 

“I don’t know,” Agatha says. “He looked like he could be a nice guy.” 

The conversation continues, but I begin to daze into my own thoughts, watching my hand run along Baz’s back muscles. He’s immersed in conversation, becoming more comfortable in his seat. It’s almost overwhelming – seeing him like this, getting along with my closest friends, being part of our group. 

For a moment, I’m able to pretend this is how it will always be. 

Later, when we’re back in the shed with our burgers and topped-up drinks, Baz and I manage to snag the sofa. I sit with crossed legs, one of my knees resting on Baz’s lap. When he finishes his burger, he rests his hand on my leg. 

Penny and Micah haven’t come back to the shed yet, but none of us mention it. Agatha and Baz start talking about a party they were both at a few months ago. Another five minutes pass and there’s still no sign of them, so I slip out of the shed. 

“Have you seen Penny and Micah?” I ask Ebb, who is sat on a deck chair in the shade. 

She shields the sun using her hand and glances up at me, “Oh, I think they went to the kitchen. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” I smile. “Everyone loves the food.” 

They’re not in the kitchen. I check the bathroom. I check upstairs too, but they’re not there. I stand in the middle of the living room and take out my phone, about to text Penny. Maybe something came up so they had to go. 

My phone slides right back into my pocket the second I hear their voices from outside the living room window. I creep towards it and, hidden partially by the curtain, see the two of them stood facing each other on my driveway. 

They are raising their voices – both of them. Penny’s waving her hands around, like she does when she’s struggling to explain something. Micah’s talking over her, not giving her the chance. 

Am I a terrible friend if I walk back to the shed? I don’t exactly want to get involved in their argument, but I also don’t want to leave my friend if she needs me. 

Against my better judgement, I stay where I am. I’m only standing there for about another minute before Micah runs a hand down his face and reaches towards Penny. He holds her to his chest, and she relaxes. 

I’ve never seen the two of them like this. I never thought they would have such explosive arguments. I feel terrible for missing the signs. 

Were there signs? Thinking back, they have been hanging out a bit less recently. But Penny would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t she? 

I open up to Baz about it that night. 

“I’ve never seen Bunce and Micah arguing,” Baz says, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“Exactly. Me neither,” I say. “What should I do?” 

He’s settled against my pillows watching me, one arm stretched above his head, the hand cradling the back of his head. I’m sat facing him, legs crossed and odd socks on display. 

“Just be honest with her,” Baz says. “Tell her what you saw and ask if she’s okay.” 

After sending her a text, I stare down at my phone for a few seconds. 

“Hey,” Baz says, reaching towards me and taking my phone. He puts it on my nightstand and then reaches back to me again. I grin when he takes hold of my hips and pulls me on top of him. He settles back against my headboard, tilting his head up to look at me. 

His dark hair is falling around his face but I push it back. I hold his face gently, fingers grazing along his jaw. He’s watching me, a fond flicker in his stormy eyes. I’m close enough now to catch the glimmer of blue swirling in his eyes. 

His hand slides up to the back of my head and into my hair. The other hand rests on my hip, under my t-shirt. I feel hot all over. 

I rest my forehead against his. His breath is hot on my lips. 

Then he’s kissing me. It starts off gentle, my lips against his. Then he’s opening his mouth around mine and I’m pressing closer towards him. I can’t help myself. 

He takes my hair into his fist. I’m slotted perfectly between his legs, arms either side of his head. I sit back against him just to watch the frustration on his face. He lets out something of a growl and tugs my head towards his, capturing my lips with his own again. 

I’m smiling against his mouth and he grumbles, “Would you stop grinning, Snow?” 

“Would you make me?” I say daringly. 

Baz pulls away to look me in the eyes. Before I can comprehend what’s going on, he’s managed to flip me onto my back. I let out a surprised and breathless laugh which starts to disappear when I feel him pressing himself against me. 

I bite my lip. Baz opens his mouth to say something, but my phone vibrates against my bedside table, letting me know I’ve received a text. I have to peel my eyes away from Baz’s.

I twist my arm up to the table and take my phone, holding it above my head. Baz collapses next to me on the bed and starts to press his nose into the pillows. 

“It’s Penny. She says it was just a small disagreement and it’s all sorted now,” I glance at Baz and he shrugs. 

“Alright, just tell her you’re there if anything like it happens again,” Baz suggests and I nod, typing it out.

When my phone is back on the bedside table, I turn to Baz, my body aligned with his, both of our heads against my pillows. 

“You know,” Baz says slowly, as if he’s delicately picking his words, “there’s no pressure . . . to do anything . . . with me.” 

I give him a warm smile, turn my lamp off and curl into his chest. I can feel his heart thumping. And although Baz is usually very cold – his hands are cold, his face is cold – he is radiating heat. 

He wraps his arm across me. 

“I know,” I tell him. He buries his head into my curls and I hear him let out a content sigh. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were straight,” I say. 

Baz lets out a loud, delighted laugh and tightens his grip around me. 

**3rd August –**

“Penny, I think I’m experiencing déjà vu,” I say as soon as she picks up the phone. 

“What’s happened now?” She asks. 

My foot trips on a dislodged piece of pavement and I narrowly miss landing on my face. I think back to what just happened, scratching the back of my head. 

Baz had been texting me, telling me he was insanely bored without me. Without me. That’s a quote: _I’m insanely bored without you._

And, well, I’m an idiot, so I went to his house expecting him to be extremely pleased to see me. I practically skipped there, which seems ridiculous now that I’m walking away from his house feeling stupid for not just staying at home. 

Mordelia answered the door again. You’d think she was paid for it or something. “It’s you again,” was her kind greeting. “Baz is out.” 

“Oh,” I frowned, staring at my unlocked phone, at the messages from him. “Okay, do you have any idea where he might be?” 

“Probably at the diner. You know, the one next to waterstones?” 

I walked back down the driveway feeling like a fool. Now I’m walking wherever my legs will take me still feeling like a fool. 

“What are you going to do?” Penny asks once I’ve finished telling her. 

I shrug, forgetting she can’t see me. “Go home? What else?” 

“Why don’t you . . . go to the diner?” Penny suggests. “He might be on his own, _bored without you_ ,” she mimics my voice. 

I hum, thinking over my other choices. I’ve got nothing to do for the day. I’m just going to spend it at home thinking about what would’ve happened if I had gone to the diner. 

I think about falling asleep against Baz’s chest just the other night, listening to the rhythm of his breaths. 

I change direction, walking towards town. 

“Pen,” I say into the phone and she hums, “Will you stay in contact with me when you’re at Uni? Even when you get loads of cool new friends?” 

Penny snorts, “Yes, Simon. I will stay in contact with you, stupid.” I find myself smiling. “We’re barely going to be an hour apart, since we both decided to go to Uni in Wales.” 

“I’m glad we did,” I say. 

“Me too.” I want to ask how she is going to cope with being apart from Micah, who she’s been so attached to since they started dating. I wish she would open up to me about it herself, but I suppose Penny has always been one to deal with troubles herself. 

When the diner begins to come into view, Penny and I hang up. I’ve walked a different way into town, so I have to trudge around the building’s glass walls to get to the front entrance. 

I peer into the diner as I’m walking around and spot the back of Baz’s dark hair immediately. He’s wearing a shirt with a Hawaiian pattern. My mouth threatens to burst into a grin at the sight of him, until I see he has company. 

In front of him sits another boy. There’s something familiar about him. He’s using his spoon to swirl an ice cream sundae around in the glass, throwing his head back against the booth at something Baz says. He seems the same age as us, but his facial features make him look more mature; his defined cheekbones and wide, concentrated brown eyes. He has sandy brown hair pushed back into a quiff. 

It hits me suddenly where I remember him from. When I was in year 12, at the Milkshake Shack, before Penny and Micah started dating. A memory of Micah dropping a cup of coffee on the floor, me rushing to the bathroom to find paper towels and instead finding Baz, kissing a boy I’d never seen before. 

I’d said nothing, and Baz had come out to everyone not two months later. I had always been worried it was because he thought I was going to spill otherwise. 

I swallow a lump in my throat. 

Baz has a history with this boy. He may even be an ex. We’ve never really talked about it. 

Being friends with exes can work. I mean, look at me and Agatha. She’s one of my favourite people in the world, even after everything we’ve been through. 

But then I think about how I’d gone to Baz’s house a week ago, hoping to have a picnic with him, and Mordelia had told me he already had a boy over. Baz avoided telling me who it was. If there was nothing more going on, he would’ve just told me, wouldn’t he? 

Just because I haven’t so much as thought of another person since asking Baz to spend the summer with me, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t either. 

And, I have to remind myself, this is only temporary. That was made clear from the beginning. This summer is about having fun before Baz goes to Paris and . . . maybe he wanted to have fun with other people as well. 

I turn around and make my way back home. 

**4th August –**

Baz invites me over for a movie night, and I regret agreeing to it as soon as I step foot into his house. 

He grins as I’m taking my shoes off, then pulls me towards him by my hands and although I want to kiss him, I can’t wipe the memory of yesterday’s trip to the diner. Did he get to kiss Baz too? 

Baz furrows his eyebrows when I let go of his hand and I lean down and reach into my bag, pretending I need my water bottle. 

“Everything okay?” Baz asks when I straighten up. 

I look down at his feet. “Yeah,” I lie. I can tell he doesn’t believe me by the long pause, but eventually he turns on his heel and leads me towards the cinema room. 

“Have I shown you this yet?” Baz asks, pushing open the double doors and letting me walk in first. 

It’s impressive. It looks like a real mini cinema, with two rows of three seats facing a TV as big as the wall. I raise my eyebrows, “No, but it’s very cool.” 

“You can tell my dad is an arse just by looking at it,” Baz says, sitting in one of the front seats and pulling his legs up. “I think he just wanted to impress his new girlfriend.” 

We put on a shitty shark movie because Baz says it’s so bad that it’s laughable. And he’s right, it’s terrible. There are parts where I could genuinely laugh out loud at the movie’s stupidity. 

But I don’t. I feel weird, and confused, and jealous. The tension between us is growing with every passing moment of the movie. Baz has had to silence his phone because it kept vibrating against the seat. I catch him tilt the screen up and read the received messages several times during the movie. 

“I’m just going to grab a drink. Want anything?” Baz asks. I suppose it must look like I’m really invested in the movie. If only he knew I was just staring at one spot on the screen. 

“No, thank you.” Baz slips out of the room. 

I see his phone screen light up. Then it does again. I can’t seem to stop myself from leaning over Baz’s seat and letting my eyes run across the messages. 

**[From: Daniel]**  
_**I really need to talk to you. Please Baz. Call me x** _

  
Another one comes through. 

  
**[From: Daniel]**  
_**I know you’re with that boy but I need you** _

  
I sit back against my seat, my head pointed towards the ceiling. An exasperated sigh escapes my lips just as Baz wanders in. 

“You okay, Snow?” He asks, seeming genuinely concerned.  
  
“Mhm,” I nod, standing up from my chair just as Baz sits down. “I have to go. Mum wants me home.” 

“Now?” Baz furrows his eyebrows, standing up again. 

I start to back out of the room, “Yeah.” 

Baz follows slightly behind, “Oh, okay. Shall I call you later?” 

“Um,” I lean down to put my shoes on, leaving the laces undone and just tucking them in to save time. “I’m quite tired tonight.” I swing my bag over my shoulder, turning to face a frowning Baz. 

He looks like he has more to say, but I’m out of the door before he can. 

**5th August –**

**[From: Baz]**  
_**Are you okay? I didn’t want to bother you last night. Call or text if you want to talk** _

  
**[From: Baz]**  
_**Just checking in again. Hope you’re okay** _

**6th August –**

**[From: Baz]**  
_**Did I do something?** _

  
**[From: Baz]**  
_**I really want to see you.** _

**7th August –**

**[From: Penny]**  
_**Baz keeps texting me about you. Can’t u just talk to him about it?** _

  
**[To: Penny]**  
_**I really don’t want to talk to him right now.** _

  
**[From: Agatha]**  
_**Simon!!!! Baz keeps bothering me. Can u text him back????** _

  
**[From: Micah]**  
_**You okay mate? Will I see u at work tomorrow?** _

  
**[From: Baz]**  
_**I miss you** _

**8th August –**

“You’re alive!” Micah says when I walk into work the next morning. 

“Just about,” I respond. 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

I shake my head, smoothing down my yellow uniform, “I don’t think so.” 

-

Penny comes in at about midday and sits at her usual seat on the counter with a chocolate milkshake. 

“Can I ask something, Simon?” She says as I’m wiping the surfaces. I hum in response, so she continues, “Why are you avoiding Baz?”

“The texts –”

“I know, you said about the texts. But why can’t you tell him you’ve seen them? Get an explanation, some closure?” 

I wrinkle up my nose and turn the dishwasher on, turning back to face her, “I don’t know. I’m preparing myself for it.” 

“Why?” She asks, then something seems to click, and she nods, “Oh. You think this is the end.” 

I ignore her. 

“Simon, he’s going to Paris.” 

“I know that,” I say quickly. “But he’s not going yet.” 

Penny sips her drink and watches me curiously. “You know I love you, right?” She says. I give her a small nod. 

-

An hour later, the bell on the door dings and I look up, seeing Baz walk towards the front. He stands next to Penny, pressing his hands against the counter. He looks tired and slightly dishevelled, his hair tied up in a messy bun with a lot of strands hanging around his face. His stormy eyes land on me. 

“Can we talk?” He says. My stomach turns. 

“Not now,” I respond quickly, intercepting Micah as he walks to the till so I can serve the boy there instead. “How can I help?” 

The boy I’m serving, it becomes clear, is actually very polite. And fairly attractive. He stands by the counter and waits for his coffee, watching me as I make it. I turn and catch his eyes a couple of times. 

Baz’s eyes are on fire. He is filled with fury, and even more so when I slide the boy’s coffee across the counter and he brushes his hand against mine. 

“This might be a bit forward,” the boy starts saying slowly. Baz scoffs, eyes blazing. “But you’re very attractive. Can I give you my number?” 

I open my mouth to respond, but Baz suddenly interrupts, “I don’t think so.” 

“ _Baz_ ,” Penny says in a disapproving tone. 

“Oh,” the boy frowns, “I didn’t realise you were –”

“How ironic,” I say, practically seething at Baz, “that you can’t cope with somebody being interested in me, when you’re still seeing your ex.” 

Baz is taken back by my comment. His eyes are wide, lips pursed and he retorts, “ _That’s_ what this is all about?” He turns to Penny then and repeats the question. She just shrugs and goes back to typing on her laptop. 

I ignore him, saying to the boy, “I’m sorry. I’d love to take your number.” 

“Wow,” Baz mutters under his breath. 

The guy leaves and I turn back to my job, the coffee machine blocking out Baz saying something along the lines of, “Can you let me explain, then? Or are we just never going to talk about it?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it now,” I say when I’m finished with the coffee. I walk around the counter and take it over to a customer, faking a polite smile. 

“Just wait for him to talk to you,” I hear Penny saying when I walk back around the counter. Baz sighs and starts to redo the bun in his hair. 

He sits there for about ten more minutes, not saying anything. When he eventually leaves, I let out a sigh of relief and excuse myself for a few minutes. 

**9th August –**

**[From: Baz]**  
_**Please let me explain** _

  
**[To: Baz]**  
_**Okay. Come over.** _

  
It’s nine o’clock in the evening and Ebb is out at a work party. 

I hear the doorbell half an hour later but I take my time getting to the door. I’m in a t-shirt and grey jogging bottoms. Baz is wearing jeans, which is actually quite unfair considering the circumstances. He steps into my hallway and takes off his shoes in silence. 

He follows me into the living room. 

“Go ahead,” I say in a monotone. Baz runs a hand down his face. 

“Daniel is a friend,” Baz says slowly, moving his hands in front of him. “We have a history. I was having a sexuality crisis when I was seeing him in year 12, which has obviously been resolved now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were still hanging out with him?” I say, although I know that Baz isn’t my boyfriend and really, I have no right to stop him seeing other people. 

He sighs, “We weren’t ‘hanging out’. He’s been having trouble figuring out his sexuality and he needed support outside his friend group. He hasn’t come out to them yet. I know how it feels to be in his position . . . so I wanted to help him.” 

“You couldn’t tell me that?” I say, annoyed. 

“It didn’t feel right to out him when he’s going through something,” Baz explains. 

I turn around and walk towards the kitchen, hearing Baz follow. I pour myself a drink of water and take several gulps, leaning my lower back against the counter and folding my arms. Baz watches from across the kitchen. 

“So why was he begging to see you in his texts?” 

Baz gulps and scratches the back of his head, “I think he got the wrong idea. He tried to kiss me –”

“Oh, wow,” I scoff. 

“and I didn’t let him. I couldn’t.”

I take another sip of water and then slam it back on the kitchen counter a bit too loudly. Baz doesn’t flinch. 

“Snow –”

“You would’ve been with him,” I say suddenly. “If I hadn’t made my feelings clear at the end of year 13 prom, you would’ve been with him instead.” 

Baz lets out a small huff, “I don’t know what would’ve happened.” 

“Do you have feelings for me, Baz?” 

“Yes, Simon,” Baz says immediately, as if he’s never been more sure of anything. The sound of my name on his lips makes my stomach swirl. He takes a step forward, “God, yes. You have to know that.”

“But you never would’ve told me, if I hadn’t said anything. If I had felt too scared that night, or if I hadn’t found the right moment, you would’ve spent the summer with your friends and then gone to Paris without ever telling me. And you might’ve tried things with him instead.” 

“It’s not like that, Simon.” He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. His grey eyes burn into mine. “I never thought I could have this. I never thought I could have you. I accepted that years ago.” 

I open my mouth and close it. My heart is hammering against my ribcage. “Years ago?” 

He’s made jokes about fancying me for a while. I remember his cheeky grin on the football pitch as he told me, ‘ _Little did they know who I really had my eye on_ ’. 

“Simon,” he says softly. He reaches his hand out and then drops it to his side. “I have always . . . this has always been here.” He gestures between the two of us and when he goes to drop his hand again, I take it in mine. He looks at our hands and lets out a breath. “Since I met you. Then in year 7, I was given the opportunity to get away from you . . . to pretend these feelings didn’t exist. I _hated_ distancing from you, but I had to.” 

My thumb runs along his hand and he lets out another shaky breath. 

“I would’ve told you from the moment I realised . . . if I thought I had a chance.” He drops his head and looks at the floor, his cheeks a pinkish colour. 

I put two fingers under his chin and tilt his head back up to look at me. The same hand runs through his hair and he hums. 

“Say it,” I whisper to him in the quiet of my kitchen. 

Baz’s eyes search my own. He shakes his head so slightly that I almost miss it. “I can’t,” he whispers back. 

“Please. Say it out loud.” I lean off the kitchen counter and kiss his jaw softly. He exhales. 

He leans back to look me in the eyes, and I see everything he cannot say: 

_I can’t say it. It will kill me to say the words out loud when I have to leave you in a few weeks._

Instead, I capture his lips with mine and I tell him the words we can’t say through kisses. 

_I love you_ , I say, eliciting a groan from him when my tongue runs along his lips. 

When he tugs his hands through my hair, I think he’s saying the same back. 

**12th August –**

“You know you’re _literally_ living the dream, right?” Agatha says, leaning against her car in my driveway. 

“What do you mean?” I ask, already smiling. 

Across the road, Baz has pulled up in an open-top car. He’s climbing out of it with his windswept hair and tight jeans and floral shirt and attractive smirk. 

“Simon,” Agatha says, nodding over to him as if I’m not already staring. “You have an attractive man with nice hair and a good dress sense picking you up in a sexy car and taking you on a trip. That is _everything_.” 

“She’s not wrong,” Penny agrees from the other side of the car, sipping at her iced coffee. Her eyes are blocked by huge sunglasses, but I can imagine the expression she’s giving me. My cheeks feel hot. 

Baz leisurely strides up the driveway. “You ready?” He asks me, tipping his head to the side. 

“Bye, guys,” I say to Penny and Agatha. Agatha lets out a dreamy sigh when she hands me my bag and I shove her lightly. Baz holds out his hand to me and although I think he’s offering to take my bag, I entwine his fingers with mine instead. 

“Have fun!” Agatha shouts over the sound of the engine. Baz is the most attractive person I’ve ever seen. He places his sunglasses on his nose and his muscles flex as he starts to move the steering wheel. 

“Not too much fun!” Penny adds and I shoot her a glare as the car starts to move down my road. 

-

Baz is driving for hours with the sun beaming down on us. My head is tilted towards the blue sky, the heat hitting my face in waves. I want to reach over and hold Baz’s hand whilst he drives, but I don’t. 

Baz’s skin is a sort of pale that you would associate with the winter. And yet, here, with the sun reflecting in his sunglasses, he looks good. Unbearably good. He looks like he belongs. 

I reach forward and turn the music up. 

-

It’s late afternoon when we arrive at the hotel Baz booked for us. By the time we’re set up in our room, there’s only one thing on both of our minds: 

Food. 

We take a leisurely walk into the city centre, through the back streets using an app to navigate ourselves. Baz’s hand brushes mine when we walk too close together. 

After we’ve both devoured a pasta dish and shared a cheesecake, Baz leads us out of the restaurant and takes my hand in his. 

“Where are we going?” I ask, leaning into his side. I’m a bit tipsy on the wine we had with dinner. I think Baz is too, if his glazed eyes are anything to go by. 

“You’ll see,” he says, a lazy smirk across his lips. 

He drags us into a little corner shop. I’m admiring the postcards whilst he buys a four pack of beers, a bottle of wine and two mint aeros. 

“You know, I do have money with me,” I say to him once we’re out of the shop. He bumps into my side as he hands me a beer and opens one for himself, swinging his shopping bag with the other hand. 

“I know,” he says simply, taking a sip of beer. I do the same. 

The beach comes into view. Baz nudges me with his shoulder and when I look at him, he’s grinning. The sun is setting in a burst of oranges and reds. 

I take a photo of him when he’s stood against a wall gazing at the sunset. He looks at me just as I’m putting the phone away and smirks because I’ve been caught. 

He leads us down the steps and onto the sand. Getting sand in my trainers doesn’t sound very appealing, but I’m tipsy and happy and nothing can change that. 

We sit by the sea on a dry patch of sand. Baz downs his beer and I watch as he swallows. There are other people on the beach, but nobody very close to us at all. 

Baz opens the bottle of wine and hands it to me. I tip it up and take a long gulp before handing it back to him. He does the same, then licks his lips. 

“Thank you,” I say, “for bringing me here.” 

He gives me a closed-mouth smile and looks down at the sand, “I wanted to.” 

He takes another sip of the wine before standing up straight and attempting to brush the sand off himself. Then he extends his hand out to me, “Dance with me.” 

I let out an excited laugh, “Now?” 

He nods a few times, wiggling his fingers at me. 

“But there’s no music,” I say, taking his hand anyway. He hauls me up and pulls me towards him. I fall against his chest ungracefully. 

“You’re lucky I’m such a good dancer then,” he mutters into my ear and I chuckle against his neck. And he’s not wrong. 

He starts to sway side to side, taking me with him. He kisses my head softly and nestles his nose into my curly hair. His other hand that isn’t holding mine spans the width of my back. He’s got me securely against him. 

“I wish we had more time,” I find myself saying. I immediately regret it when Baz starts to pull his head back. His eyes blaze into mine and I worry that I’ve ruined everything. 

Then, he purses his lips and says, “I do too.” 

My lips find his and I kiss him with everything I have. 

-

We stay at the beach for what feels like hours. The empty wine bottle swings between us on the walk back. Baz deposits our rubbish and takes my hand again. I knock into him and this time we both giggle. 

We end up in a bar next to our hotel. We sit beside each other at a booth, sipping at our drinks. Baz’s eyes are glossy as they trail across the people in the bar. 

“Those girls were checking you out at the bar,” Baz says in a very neutral voice. I grin over my beer glass. 

“Oh?” 

He doesn’t say anything else for a moment, but his eyes are still narrowed, glaring in the direction of the bar. 

“They were talking about you too,” he says quietly. 

I let out a short laugh and put a hand on his thigh, “Surely they must be able to tell I’m not available.” Baz finally looks at me, and he smiles, pressing a light kiss to a mole on my cheek. 

I try not to think too much about it. I try to put it away in the box of things not to think about. But I can’t help realising how much I’m going to struggle finding out Baz has settled down with somebody who’s not me. And seeing Baz like this, with a new, possessive side to him, I wonder if he’s realised it too. 

I don’t like thinking about it, so I decide to ask him another question that’s been playing on my mind. 

“Do you think Penny and Micah are going to break up?” 

He gulps, “Um,” he runs his fingers over a heart carved in the table, “I don’t know, really. It’s hard to say.” 

“I think they are,” I say. I’ve never said it out loud and now I’m wondering if I’ve ever really let myself think it. Penny and Micah’s relationship is another thing I’ve left in the box of thing’s not to think about. And although she hates the box, I think Penny has done the exact same thing. 

“You don’t like change, do you?” Baz says suddenly. I look away from him instinctively, as if I’m scared he can see too much. 

` I find myself admitting, “No, I don’t.” Baz’s features are soft and his gaze is comforting. “This . . . how things are now, I want them to be like this forever. And I know they have to change, but I wish they wouldn’t.”

Me, Penny, Micah, Agatha, Baz. The five of us, hanging out together, doing whatever makes us happy. That’s how I wish things would always be. 

Baz’s hand finds mine under the table. He strokes his thumb along my knuckles. 

“Sometimes change is for the best,” he says, and I understand what he means. 

Maybe Micah and Penny will break up, and it will be hard, but they will be happier. Maybe Agatha will go off travelling on her gap year and we’ll fall out of touch, but she’ll be doing what she loves. Maybe Baz will never come back from Paris, but he’ll have the life he’s always dreamed of. 

“I’m quite drunk,” I whisper to Baz, as if it’s a secret. He sends me a cute toothy grin. 

“I am too,” he says, covering his smile with his hand. 

-

We’re loud and drunk when we eventually come bustling into our hotel room. Baz spent about five minutes trying to work out how to open the door in his drunken state, refusing to let me do it. 

I close the door by pushing my body against it, then I’m gravitating towards the double bed and sitting on it. I watch Baz with an amused smile as he tries to take off his shoes. 

“Come here,” I say to him. He huffs and walks over. I lift his leg across my lap and start to undo the laces of the first shoe, then I pull it off. I do the same with the second. 

“Thank you,” he says, leaning in to give me a small kiss. He pulls away and looks down at me from where he’s stood. His lips are parted and he’s watching me with furrowed eyebrows, thinking hard. 

He nudges my legs open his knees and places himself between them, leaning down so we’re face to face. His eyes are dark in the dimly lit hotel room. 

I touch his lips with my own and he gives as good as he gets, running his tongue along my bottom lip. I make a sound around his mouth as his tongue slides against mine. The alcohol in my system makes me brave and confident and assertive.

I pull away and Baz’s lips trail after mine, wanting more. We look at each other intently, me chewing on my bottom lip and Baz watching me. A question lingers in the air between us. 

I answer by taking hold of Baz’s hips and pushing him onto the bed. He lays on his back with a lazy smirk on his face, reaching his arms out to me. I slide above him, connecting my lips to his once more. My hands find their way to the top button of his shirt and I pull away to look at him. His eyes flutter open beautifully, his dark eyelashes contrasting with the pale colour of his skin, and I ask, “Can I?” He nods enthusiastically and pulls me back into a bruising kiss, running his fingers through my hair.  
  
I start to unbutton the shirt and when they’re all undone, the trickiest thing is getting his arms out. He giggles against my mouth and I say, “Bloody hell,” as I struggle to worm him out of it. He sits up and throws it onto the ground himself. 

I push him back, licking my tongue into his mouth. I run my hand down his defined stomach and he makes a sound against my lips that vibrates against my palm. 

He starts to grasp at the hem of my t-shirt, then he’s pulling it over my head and onto the floor with his own. He holds my face delicately in his hands but his eyes are roaming around my chest with an expression of desire. I bite my lip, pressing my bare chest against his. 

He hums, connecting our lips again. I kiss him with everything I have, as if I’m never going to get this chance again. As if I want him to remember this forever. 

His bare chest against mine makes me feel hot all over, and I feel a desire beginning to pool in my stomach. 

I break away from him when his hips buck involuntarily up into mine. A sigh escapes my lips. His eyes are wide and blown, “I’m sorry –” he starts to say. His words twist into a raspy groan when I push my hips back against his. 

I reach for his belt, watching him for any signs of discomfort. His head is tilted back and he’s watching me with parted lips. He nods again when I start to undo his zipper. His jeans land on the floor in a heap, then Baz is grasping at my own trousers and taking them off. 

I’m hovering over Baz and he’s got his hands all over me. I press my face into his neck, finding a spot that makes him writhe against the bed. Then I’m kissing down his chest and he’s letting out all kinds of sounds. 

“Simon,” he sighs when my face is aligned with his again. My hand slips down his chest, lower and lower and lower. He arches his back when I finally touch him, tilting his head back against the bed. I kiss behind his ear. 

“I like it when you call me Simon,” I say against his ear and he shivers. My hand moves to the rhythm of his erratic breathing. 

Baz, moving against the hotel bed sheets, whispering my name into my ear like a promise. _Beautiful_ , I think, as I see him completely open, vulnerable, allowing me to see everything. 

He kisses me passionately with everything he has. Then he’s reaching down my body and I’m filled with full-blown desire. I let all sorts of profanities leave my lips. He kisses my closed eyelids and along my jawline.

Not long later, we lay across from each other on the hotel bed. The lights are off, but I’m smiling more than I have before. I shuffle towards Baz, pressing my front against his back. 

“Are you still smiling?” Baz asks sleepily, voice muffled by the pillow. He welcomes my arm wrapping around him. When I don’t respond immediately, he tilts his head up to look around at me.

“Maybe,” I say. I press my smiling lips against Baz’s back, falling asleep to the sound of his breathing and the scent of his familiar smell. 

**14th August –**

Penny suggests we go to our town’s annual summer carnival. I really consider making up an excuse not to go, because of what happened last year. 

“Simon, the same thing is not going to happen again,” Penny told me over the phone the day before. I was lying with my back on my bed, leaning so my head managed to touch the ground. 

“You don’t know that,” I said, sitting up straight when blood started rushing to my head. 

“Just don’t go with Micah on the dodgems again,” Penny said, which was a reasonable enough solution. 

“Why did he get so intense about it?” I asked, thinking back to the wild look in Micah’s eyes as he rammed our car into every possible target. 

“He just really likes dodgems,” Penny had explained. There was some shuffling on her side of the phone and then she added, “I’ll bring a bag for you just in case. You know, to avoid the sick landing on anyone’s shoes.” 

My cheeks flushed red in embarrassment although nobody could see me, “Thanks.” 

Now, I’m waiting in the carnival carpark with Agatha, leaning against her car. Baz said he would pick up Penny and Micah, since he lives closer to Penny’s house anyway. 

Now I’m thinking about it, Penny has been calling me a lot more than she usually does. Sometimes, in the evenings, she’ll ring and we’ll talk on the phone for hours, not about anything particularly interesting. I think she just wants my company. 

I spend a lot of time on the phone to Baz as well. Sometimes we’ll fall asleep talking to each other in the early hours of the morning. It’s worth losing sleep if it means I get to hear his voice.

“Are you nervous about results day?” Agatha asks me suddenly. Her blonde hair is styled into two plaits and she looks content, excited, happy. 

“Yeah, a little,” I say. _I’m nervous because I know results day is the beginning of a journey for most people, so why does it feel like it’s the end?_ “What about you?” 

“It’s kind of weird,” she says, kicking a stone under her foot. “I feel glad to be getting the results and relieved that they don’t matter that much because I’m going on a gap year no matter what they say but . . . that’s it when we get out results.” 

I furrow my eyebrows at her, “What do you mean?” 

“Everything’s changing when we get them,” she concludes. There’s a sad sort of glint in her eyes. 

I think of Baz telling me ‘ _sometimes change is for the best_ ’ and I tell Agatha the same thing. 

“Hmm,” she nods and points at Baz’s car driving towards us, “There they are.” 

We step to the side as Baz parks his car beside Agatha’s. I start walking towards them as they’re getting out, but Agatha touches my elbow and turns me around. 

“You don’t have to pretend to be okay with all of this,” she tells me sincerely. I don’t have to ask what ‘all of this’ is. “Not with me,” she adds. I nod several times with parted lips.

Penny and Baz jump out of the front seat of the car and wander over to us. Penny’s got some new pink streaks in her hair. Baz looks devilishly handsome in a plain navy sweater and black jeans. 

I’m surprised when the back seat of the car doesn’t open. “Where’s Micah?” I ask, but I begin to regret mentioning it when a look passes over Penny’s eyes. 

She simply says, “He couldn’t make it. He’s visiting family.” 

I glance at Baz and he sheepishly smiles, which lets me know he, too, doesn’t know what’s going on. 

“Are we ready then?” Penny says in a more excited voice. 

“Yes, let’s go,” Agatha says, looping her arm through Penny’s and beginning to walk towards the loud carnival. 

Baz lets out a little huff and wraps an arm around my shoulders, “Come on, Snow.”

I slide my arm comfortably around his waist. 

“You’re not going to be sick on me, are you?” He asks in a teasing tone and I playfully shove him off me. 

“I can’t believe Penny told you!” I exclaim, but I can’t help cracking a smile. He pulls me back into him and I mutter, “At least now I know who I’m aiming at.” 

He laughs loudly and tips his head towards the dark sky.

-

An hour or so later, when Baz and I are sharing a bag of candyfloss and he’s got a snow leopard toy under his arm, we stand waiting for Agatha and Penny. They’re on the dodgems in front of us, Agatha driving like she’s insane and Penny yelling at her to calm down. 

“Agatha is scary,” Baz says, pinching some candyfloss from out of my hand. I scowl at him, but he just grins and pops it into his mouth. 

“You shouldn’t mess with her,” I say. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Baz licks his fingers, then takes hold of his new toy in both hands, “I can’t believe you won this.” 

“Fishing for plastic ducks is my secret talent,” I tell him and he grins. 

“I didn’t know I wanted a snow leopard toy before today. But I love him.” 

He leans close to me and presses his lips to my cheek – at the same mole he tends to target. 

A voice from behind us calls over the music, “Baz?” 

Both of us spin around at the same time, a group of boys stood at a distance from us. I recognise most of them from school; the boy at the front, his hand raised in a sort of wave, starts to make his way towards us. 

“Oh, fuck,” Baz says under his breath, so quietly that I almost miss it. 

It’s Martin, who was a part of Baz’s group of friends at school. He was one of the nicer friends he had, but behind Martin, watching us with stony glares, are Niall and Dev. 

“Have you spoken to Niall or Dev?” I quickly ask Baz. He told me throughout the summer that he was planning on meeting up with them at some point. He never mentioned actually doing it, though. 

“Nope,” Baz says, an awkward expression on his face. 

“Hey, Baz,” Martin says, now stood in front of us. He puts his hands in his pockets and smiles easily, as if there’s no tension between us. “Simon, how are you doing?” 

“Good, thanks,” I say, giving him a very generic response. 

“Baz, we haven’t seen you in ages.” 

Baz scratches the back of his neck with the hand that’s not holding his snow leopard. “Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy.” 

Martin nods and watches the brief eye contact between me and Baz, then he seems to nod even more enthusiastically, “Oh!” He says, “I didn’t realise you two were –”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. I kick a stone on the ground, not wanting to fill it in either. Baz and I aren’t _anything_. Not after results day, anyway. 

“Yeah,” Baz says uncomfortably. I see Niall and Dev walking over from behind Martin’s back. I think Baz notices too, because he clears his throat and says, “I was on holiday and with family too so, it’s been busy.” 

“As long as you’ve had a good summer,” Martin says kindly, with a shrug. 

Dev, before he’s even reached us, calls out, “Baz, we’ve been contacting you all summer.”

“I know, sorry guys,” Baz says. 

They stop beside Martin. Their eyes shift towards me, a cold, judgemental glint in their eyes. 

“I didn’t realise you were hanging out with him again,” Niall remarks rudely, looking straight at me as he says it.

Baz’s jaw flexes slightly and he quickly says, “Simon and I have spent all summer together.” 

Dev raises his eyebrows and says, “Daniel came out to us. He told us he was meeting up with you. Seemed like he thought something was going on between you.” 

“Well, he got confused,” Baz says. Dev looks at the snow leopard. 

“I thought you liked him,” Dev says, pushing and pushing, hoping for a reaction. 

“I don’t.” 

“Since when?” 

Baz huffs, “Since I said so, okay? Shut up about it.” 

Dev holds up his hands in defence, “Alright, chill out.” 

Agatha and Penny are clambering out of their vehicle and walking away from the dodgems. Penny’s skin is paler than it was before and for a moment I wonder if it’s her turn to be sick on someone’s shoes. 

They wander over to us, surprised to see company. 

“Oh god,” Penny says, rolling her eyes. 

Niall smirks and crosses his arms over his chest, attempting to look cool, “Hey there, Agatha.” 

“ _Shut up_ ,” she snaps. He actually seems a little embarrassed, which would make me feel bad for him if he was a particularly nice person. 

“I’m going to hang out with my friends now,” Baz tells the three of them. Martin nods and wishes us a good night. Niall and Dev glare at us with expressions of disdain. 

Baz turns his back to them, and we walk in the other direction. I feel Baz’s hand slide into mine and he sends me a reassuring smile. 

-

Baz drives me home at the end of the night. I’m sat in the passenger’s seat, his new toy on my lap, the window open and the wind hitting my face in waves. 

I wouldn’t mind if that car journey home lasted a lifetime. I wouldn’t mind one bit. I could sit here, gaze flickering between the starry night and Baz’s beautiful side profile, for the rest of my life. 

He catches me staring a few times, and his neck turns a pinkish colour. I smile to myself. 

He pulls up outside my house and turns to face me. His hair is windswept, his grey eyes sparkling. 

“I’m sorry about those guys earlier,” he says, frowning slightly. 

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He shrugs, “I’m the reason they were so horrible to you.” 

I bite the inside of my cheek, thinking for a moment. Technically, Baz, when he stopped being my friend and started being theirs, is the reason why they always had it out for me. 

But, I love Baz. And although he can’t say it, I think he loves me too. He has, all along. 

I don’t blame him for any of it. Not anymore. 

“It’s okay,” I say softly. I take his hand in mine across the two front seats. “I don’t care about that anymore.” 

He’s still frowning, looking at our hands. 

“I’m going to tell you something that I probably shouldn’t say,” Baz says in a whispered voice. I sit up a little straighter, squeezing his hand to let him know I’m listening. He sighs, eyes flickering up to meet mine, “Sometimes, I wish that I wouldn’t get into Paris . . . so that I could stay here.” 

My heart thumps against my chest. 

_Sometimes, I think the same. Because I’m selfish, because I want you to stay, because I love you._

“Paris is your dream,” I say. 

Baz nods his head slowly. 

_Does he want me to ask him to stay?_

“I know,” he says. “I just wish I’d known this was going to happen.” 

I bring his hand to my mouth and kiss it softly. 

_Stay here. Don’t leave._

It would be cruel for me to tell him. 

How can I ask him to stay here when I’m leaving, too? 

No matter what happens on results day, Baz and I came together at the wrong time in our lives. I’m going to Cardiff University in Wales, Baz is going to Paris and we’re starting our own new chapters. Neither of us could possibly cope with long distance, especially this soon in a relationship. 

I tilt his chin up, lean across the two seats and put my lips to his. He seems surprised at first but soon melts into the kiss, leaning closer to me. His hand slides down from my shoulder to my chest, grasping the material of my hoodie in his fist. 

He hums, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss. His tongue slips into my mouth and I let out a laboured breath, running my fingers through his hair. 

His heavy breaths seem to motivate me. I move my chin in a way that he seems to like and then bite his lip experimentally. A groan slips from his mouth and he pulls away to meet my eyes. 

His dark eyelashes flutter as he says, “My, uh, family aren’t home.” 

“Okay,” I whisper against his lips. A smirk starts to form on my lips, but he kisses it off. “Shouldn’t you be,” I pant out between kisses, hand slipping onto his thigh, “driving?” 

He pulls away suddenly and sits back in the driver’s seat. My hand slides up his leg as he starts the car and he clears his throat, “You’re playing a dangerous game, Snow.” 

I give him an innocent look and he raises his eyebrows, motioning to the hand on his thigh. As we’re heading up my street, I take out my phone and text Ebb, letting her know I’m staying over at Baz’s. 

-

Baz parks the car on his drive, then he’s bustling over to the front door, fumbling with his keys to unlock it. The door swings open and we both enter the hallway, taking our shoes off. 

I’m caught off guard when Baz slams me against the hallway wall, using his body to keep me there. He runs his hands through my messy hair. 

“Hello there,” I say, a bright smile on my face. His gaze flickers from my mouth to my eyes. 

“Hey,” he whispers. 

I crash my lips into his, meeting him in a fiery kiss of teeth and tongue. He presses himself further into me and I turn us around, pushing his back against the wall instead. I take his wrists and pin them above his head. He lets out a breathy groan into my mouth. 

His head tilts back against the wall and I kiss behind his ear, running kisses down his neck. He releases an ‘uh’ at one sensitive spot of his neck and I focus on that particular area, kissing and sucking and – 

He shudders under me, hands still locked above his head. My thigh slips between his legs and – oh. 

His breaths are staggered. I pull away from his neck to catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes flutter open; they’re dark and filled with lust. 

I let his arms go and he catches my hand, leading me upstairs. I follow behind enthusiastically. I trip on the last step and he giggles. 

When we eventually reach his bedroom, he slams the door closed and turns to me, his lip between his teeth. 

I capture my lips with his again. 

Suddenly, he jumps up and his long legs wrap around me. I grab his thighs, holding him against me. Our kisses become more frantic and needy and I press his back against a wall to keep us both up. 

His arms snake around my shoulders and then one hand drops, trailing down my chest and slipping under my jeans. I let out an embarrassing sound against Baz’s lips and he smirks against mine, moving his hand. I have to break away from his mouth, instead pressing my forehead to his as I begin to produce all sorts of curse words from my lips. 

My body is trembling so I press Baz onto the mattress instead. He turns us around, sitting above me and slipping my hoodie off. He lowers his body, meeting his hips with mine and letting out a gasp at the friction. 

His hand slips past my jeans again and he leans down to kiss behind my ear. 

“I’m going to die like this,” I say between heavy breaths. 

“Yes,” Baz says, sitting back so I can admire him fully. “You are.” 

**16th August –**

“Hey,” Baz says when he answers the phone. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I’m walking down the street, missing his face. “Just going on a walk.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“I was thinking, actually.” 

“That’s never good,” he says with amusement in his voice. 

I scoff. 

“What were you thinking about, Snow?”

I’m silent for several seconds before saying, “Results day. We never talked about it, but now it’s the day after tomorrow.” 

Baz is silent on the other side of the call. 

“We shouldn’t go to collect our results together.” 

Baz lets out a breath, “I know.” 

“It would be . . . painful, I guess.” 

“Yeah.” 

I pass a group of young girls on the path and they give me a dirty look. 

“And then, that’s it?” I say it as a question, although I know the answer. 

“. . . yeah.” 

I reach the long scary gates outside Baz’s house and heave them open. They make a loud screeching sound. 

“Where are you?” Baz asks, clearly hearing it. 

“Just running an errand,” I say, avoiding the question. 

I rush up his driveway, to his front door and slip the photo through the letterbox. 

“Where?” 

“I just put something in your letterbox.” 

“Really?” Baz says and I hear rustling on his side of the line and doors opening. 

I’m on the other side of the large gates when I see the front door open and Baz’s figure lean out. He’s holding his phone to his ear with one hand and with the other, he holds the photo. 

I can hear his breathing through the phone. 

It’s a candid photo; the two of us at the carnival not two days ago. We’re facing each other, my arm wrapped around his waist, leaning into his neck with a loving smile across my lips. He’s laughing in the photo, one arm around my shoulder and the other holding his snow leopard. He looks absolutely, indisputably beautiful. 

Agatha took the photo and sent it to me yesterday. 

I printed it out and wrote the date it was taken on the back. 

“I love this photo,” Baz says after a while. I begin my walk back home. 

“Me too.” 

Neither of us can seem to hang up. We stay on the phone for hours and although it’s the one thing on my mind, we avoid bringing up results day again. 

**17th August –**

Baz and I spend the day together at my house. We bake in my kitchen, kiss in my new shed, kiss in my room, talk in my living room in front of the telly. 

I can’t seem to take my hands off him for the whole day. He can’t seem to either. 

And then it reaches midnight and we know he has to go home. 

I kiss him against my front door and he struggles to leave. He tells me he can’t say goodbye, so he doesn’t. He leaves, jumps into his car and drives home. 

-

“Simon, it’s 1:00 in the morning.” 

“I know, but I need to speak to you.” 

Penny’s voice softens, “What is it then, love?” 

“Baz has gone.” She doesn’t say anything, so I continue: “He’s gone home, and in the morning, we’re going to pick up our results and that’s it.” 

“Simon,” she says kindly, “You knew this was going to happen.”

In my hand, I hold the piece of paper where Baz and I wrote our bucket list for the summer. 

“I know. But I didn’t expect it to hurt so much.” My voice cracks. 

“You and Baz have something incredibly special,” she tells me. “You two have been running in circles around each other since you first met. This _love_ between you has always been there.” 

“Yeah,” I breathe. 

“Don’t be sad that you can’t be with him now,” Penny says, “be grateful for the time you got. You have had the most amazing summer together.” 

I glance at the bucket list again and recall how I’d said to myself at the beginning of the summer: ‘ _it’s not over yet. The hourglass is still running_ ’.   
  
It’s over now.

“We have,” I agree. “But I want more.” 

“I know. But you will be okay, Simon. Everything happens for a reason.” 

I hear Baz’s voice ringing around my head: _sometimes change is for the best. Sometimes change is for the best. Sometimes change is for the best._  


  
**18th August –**

Agatha, Penny, Micah and I walk down the driveway of our school and into our school. Agatha’s hand rubbing against my back soothes me slightly. 

Our results are all in envelopes with our names on the front, sprawled in alphabetical order across a table. 

‘Snow’ is one of the last envelopes on the right side of the table. My eyes catch sight of the ‘Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch’ envelope still waiting. 

I take mine and meet my friends outside. Penny counts down from three and we open them. A series of reactions pass across our faces. 

Micah: “Shit, I did terrible in physics. Oh well.” 

Penny: “How the hell did I manage this?” 

Agatha: “Not half bad.” 

I put mine back into the envelope. My friends are smiling at me, waiting for a reaction. I let out a short laugh, “Well, I got into Uni.” 

Penny hugs me, “We’re going to Wales!” 

A smile finds its way onto my face. It is quick to slip right off when I see a figure walking down the driveway towards the hall. Baz, with Martin at his side, climbs the stairs leading up to the school hall. He spares me one, short, detached glance. 

My friend are still talking but their words all roll into one and I can’t pay attention to anything except for the door to the hall. 

Baz finally emerges and my eyes dart to the envelope at his side, which has already been ripped open. 

He walks back down the steps. Martin is at his side, talking excitedly and waving his hands around. Baz turns his head and holds my stare. He looks cold and remote and . . . different to the Baz I have been with this summer. 

Slowly and suddenly, Baz begins to nod. 

My heart drops in my chest. 

_He’s going to Paris._

I let out a deep breath and Baz turns his back to me.

_Everything happens for a reason._

Baz walks back down the driveway without looking back. 

_Sometimes change is for the best._


End file.
